>Mother’s Day? Already?

>But it’s only Cinco de Mayo today! It can’t be Mother’s Day — oh, I give in. I’ll go shopping tomorrow night after school. My mom, Husband’s mom — they each need something as special as they are. This always takes a little thought.
Me? You wanted to know what I need or want? Oh, that’s harder.
I already have a new purse, a unique and timely clutch.
I’m pretty well stocked on clothing.
My bike needs a new seat, but it’s already purchased and sitting in the garage waiting to be installed.
The cupboard has plenty of coffee in it. Chocolate is always welcome, but really.
I’ve hinted (directly) to the family that they could pick up the garden supplies I need and I’ll be very, very happy. Simple pleasures work for me. Okay, kiddos and Husband, here’s the list. I already have quite a few of the seeds I need; I mainly need seedlings.
Tomatoes — cherry and Big ‘Uns (Early Girl grows well in our soil).
Peppers: Green, Red, Chili
Broccoli or Cauliflower to grow and share with the bunbuns.
Herbs! Seeds or seedlings, either works for me. Basil, rosemary, thyme, at the least. Oregano grows nicely, too.
A new watering can, unfortunately. The old one cracked last fall. Sniff.
A small sprinkler to replace the one I stepped on and destroyed the day Tiny Bunny died. I was a little distracted.
That’s about it, family. Any or all of these lovely items would make me very happy. You know how much I love to dig in the dirt!

This blog blast suggested by Parent Bloggers Network and Johnson’s, sponsors of Johnson’s Baby Cause, a charitable organization supporting mothers and children worldwide.

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>Worry is the misuse of Imagination.

>I have a sign behind my desk stating just that. It doesn’t stop me from worrying, but it reminds me that there are more effective ways to expend my energy.
La Petite had a major sinus infection a few weeks ago. On her visit to the school clinic, they started to tell her that she had to show symptoms for another week before they’d put her on meds. She asked them to check her records for last year. Sure enough, she’d suffered the exact same problem one year ago.
They gave her the antibiotics with no further questions.
Two years ago I went to our family doctor with my annual spring sinus infection. She looked at my medical history and said, “You’re three days late this year.” Last year I managed to escape the misery, but today I went back for a dose of the usual. I’ll pick it up at the pharmacy later this afternoon. This is a case where like mother, like daughter, isn’t necessarily a good thing. When I get a seasonal sinus infection, I now worry about her developing the same painful symptoms.

There was a major explosion last week on the campus where La Petite goes to school. It was accidental, although she admitted that the timing (one year after Virgina Tech’s mass shooting) had a lot of people freaked. In her role as asst. photo editor for the school paper, she helped send out photos of the disaster to several news outlets, almost all of which ran the photos. (Note to self: remind her to send resumes to these people when she graduates)
No one was killed, and only one person was injured. But the major impact on students was this: the explosion destroyed the main and the backup boiler that provide heat and hot water to the campus at large.
Yes, you read that correctly. All the students living on campus have been without heat and hot water for a week now.
La Petite lives in an apartment near campus — so near campus that she’s closer to her classes then she was when she lived in a dorm. But by virtue of being off campus, she has hot water. She can shower! Wash dishes! Do laundry (I hope)! But the others? Apparently the athletic department has its own hot water supply, so students are allowed to use the locker rooms for basic hygiene needs. The Powers That Be are also encouraging students to go home as often as possible to — well, to shower.
Thank goodness it’s spring, not winter. Going without heat in April is a whole different story than doing without in January.
And thank goodness she’s living in an apartment. If she didn’t, I might have to rethink this weekend visit of mine.

Worry is just one part of motherhood. For more serious and sweet Portraits of Mothers, look to the Parent Bloggers Network and their Blog Blast for this week.

Update: Husband now has an appointment to see the doctor on Monday for his own version of the annual sinus infection. Sigh. Sniff. Snore.

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>Simplify? Easier said than done.

>Save, share, simplify. It’s a little like reduce, reuse, and recycle: it’s a good slogan, but it takes effort to put it into practice.
Our school holds a sale of used books to help fund their trip to camp. The books are donated, so the sale is 100% profit, and the kids and parents who buy are happy because the prices are low. It’s a win-win.
We swap DVDs with friends and family instead of renting. Yes, it means we buy our favorites (or receive them as gifts) in the first place, but we only buy movies we really like. The best part? No overdue fees.
The simplify piece is the hardest for me. I’ve been cleaning out rather than saving lately. Old books go to my classroom collection or to the school sale. Children’s toys went into the rummage sale last August, and since then more have gone to Goodwill and the thrift store.
Lack of storage space gives us trouble when saving. Our aging Victorian home was built with few closets. We’ve added a linen closet and revamped our own bedroom closet spaces. We tuck a few things in the attic, but it’s not very big, either.
So I might look into the new Zwaggle, a site for parents who want to do their share to give back, both to the environment and to others. My question will be: are there other families with teens, especially disabled teens? I’ll be looking for Braille items this time around or a source that would like some of the Braille books Amigo has finished. They’re too good to throw away, but they take up enormous amounts of space that we just don’t have.

This blog blast suggested by Parent Bloggers Network and Zwaggle. New members who sign up through the invitation link (above) will get extra Zoinks, or Zwaggle points.

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>Making the healthier easier

>It’s a little like Supermom meeting her Kryptonite: time. If time is money and money is time, families rarely have enough of either.
Healthy Living vs. Easy Living is like that; it’s easier said than done.
Last night, even though I’d vowed to cook from scratch more often, even though I’d declared I would make more nutritious and low fat suppers, and even though there was a package of tilapia in the freezer, I gave in to my exhaustion and threw a package of breaded chicken patties in the oven instead. Oh, it was was easy, but it was a guilt trip in the making, so I ate a homemade cookie for dessert to make me feel better.
When Parent Bloggers Network announced their blog blast this week on the topic of healthier living, I thought about posts I’ve already written in the first month of this brand new year. SMART goals. Locavore food choices. “Me” time. Even safety on the ice! Well, sort of.
The most likely way to encourage me to cook and eat healthier is to make it easy. Despite having tilapia in the freezer and knowing it doesn’t take long to cook, I didn’t do it. I wimped out, as my kids would say, based on the time and energy necessary to make healthy side dishes. With that experience in mind, here’s my plan.
*Keep healthy sides around as well as healthy, easy-to-cook lean meats and fish.
*Plan ahead more often.
*Bake (Homemade bread! Good cookies! Yum!) on weekends to prepare sides and healthier snacks in advance.
*Cook vegetables for the adults, even though the teen often refuses to eat them. He might grow up and eat healthy some time. A mom can dream!
*Check out the site Parent Bloggers Network suggested, Kroger online, for recipes, guidelines, safe preparation habits, and more.

This blog blast was suggested by the Parent Bloggers Network and Kroger online.

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>Every story, new or ancient…

>The most memorable gifts are those that spark stories. The story might about the gift, the giver, or the recipient, but the story is the heart of it. Like fruitcake, it’s the piece that gets remembered, long after the holiday itself is gone.
Like fruitcake, the gift isn’t always fancy. One of my favorite Teacher Gifts was a gift card to a garden center in town. this student and his parents knew enough about that they went beyond the World’s Best Teacher coffee mug (which would’ve been nice, too) and addressed one of my favorite activities: digging in the dirt.
Many years ago, one of my dad’s idols (Bart Starr) published an autobiography. I stood in line for two hours to get it autographed, and it was worth every minute. My dad was notoriously hard to buy for, and this was perfect — and he let me read it when he was done.
A student gave me this cute little popsicle stick sculpture. I’ll always remember her when I see it because she finished gluing it together at the last minute in class…much like the way she did homework!
So you see, it really is the thought that counts. All the students who have given me coffee mugs or Green Bay Packer ornaments are in my memory because of the stories their gifts inspire. As my little snowman insisted (below), I did, indeed, have a very merry Christmas.


This post inspired by the Parent Bloggers Network and their Blog Blasts, and Excitations, a site designed to make gift giving fun and memorable for givers and receivers alike.

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>Three, no, four reasons why I’m glad my kids are too old for toys

>1. Dora with lead paint
2. Diego with lead paint.
3. SpongeBob Squarepants notebooks with traces of lead.
4. Winnie the Pooh, Thomas the Tank Engine, and who knows what else? — all contain lead.

I could go on, but what’s the point?

It’s the stuff of which late night jokes are made, when their writers are working, that is. Who would believe the sheer number of new recalls in the last six to twelve months? It’s been unbelievable. Simply unreal. No one can blame it on terrorism, either. At least no one at the White House has tried…yet.

My children are no longer children, thank goodness, so I didn’t have to find a way to explain why their favorite toys had to come out of the toy box or their favorite new notebook was better off under the sea. Mine are 15 and 20, and their holiday needs are, well, different from the wish lists of their younger cousins.

So in the spirit of the Twelve Days of Safe Shopping, here are twelve ways I’m considering to help get the lead out of our family’s holiday.

1. Read the boxes. The bags. The packaging.
2. Look for those magic words “non-toxic” on the label.
3. Watch the news.
4. Look for water soluble paints and dyes. Lead isn’t.
5. Give homemade gifts to family and close friends.
6. Know your sources (like Dale and Thomas Popcorn: Mmm. Fresh.)
7. Buy music. Support artists and musicians making their living.
8. Buy clothes.
9. Look for country of origin, buying closer to home whenever possible.
10. Buy fair trade.
11. Buy from local craft fairs and farmer’s markets.
12. Stop buying toys (I can do that; my “kids” are older).

I didn’t need to clean out a toy box with each new recall, but I did wonder about families who did. It had to be difficult to handle with children to young to understand the dangers.
Many sites can give you up to date information on recalls. Try these.
The League of Maternal Justice
Consumer’s Union (Not in My Cart! is their mantra.)
Consumer’s Union’s blog
And finally, if you’d like to join Consumers’ Union in making a difference, check this site, their Safe Shopper movement.
Parent Bloggers Network is chronicling many bloggers who are addressing this topic in today’s blog blast. Find them here.

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>Sing it with me: It’s a small world after all —

>Blogging has expanded my worlds, er, world in ways I never expected. I started blogging as inexpensive therapy. As I surfed through other blogs, I developed networks of acquaintances and (dare I say it?) new friends. One of the great things about blogging and reading blogs is the networking. I’ve discovered so many people with whom I share so much.
Other parents of teens.
Other parents of college kids.
Working moms with many different experiences.
Parents of children with autism and Asperger’s. (Too many to link!)
Other teachers.
Other gardeners.
Other coffee lovers.
Other Green Bay Packer fans (Okay, maybe not, but I know they’re out there!)
Other women of my age (and not) with the same sense of humor. (Again, too many to link, snicker)

I took a leap, despite my relatively low readership, and added BlogHer ads. This network has the added advantage of seeing links to other enjoyable blog posts and discovering more favorites.
Well, a few days ago, I got an email from a favorite local coffee drive-through kiosk. Upon seeing my post mentioning their lovely beverages, they offered me a sweatshirt for the positive word-of-mouth PR. Word of keyboard? Well, customer relations. I will wear it with pride! My coffee-fiend friends will be jealous.
Today I received more good news. My blog blast post about our LoveSac Rocker and its wonderfully funny warning tag won honorable mention from the Parent Bloggers Network. Fun! Now I like the rocker even more.

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>One — two — Three foods. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha=ha!

>When Amigo was young, he had a three-sectioned plate that helped him learn to eat independently, despite his blindness.
As he got older and received his other diagnosis, Asperger’s Syndrome (a high functioning disorder on the autism spectrum), he continued to insist on exactly, precisely three foods. No more, no less. Three.
He outgrew the need for a sectioned plate long ago, but we have learned a new vocabulary to go with his obsession with three foods. “Honey, let’s make jello. It’s a good Third Food.” “So, if we serve this with that, what’s the Third Food?” “Can I finish up the zucchini bread for a Third Food?”
Pork chops with mashed potatoes and applesauce equals three foods.
Minestrone soup equals one.
Chicken with a side of rice, and beans = three foods.
Chicken rice casserole = one.
Spaghetti with meatballs = two foods.
Spaghetti with meatsauce = one.
You may be getting the picture. If two foods merge, such as a casserole or soup, they are One Food. If they are served separately, count each one on its own.
Amigo has matured emotionally as well as physically, and now that he’s fifteen, he’s not as picky. He can let go of the Three Foods Rule on special occasions or when we go to restaurants. He’s starting to accept modifications that bend the rule, such as a pickle as Third Food or a slice of bread (Mom’s homemade, of course) for a side dish with Mom’s Fantastic Chicken Soup or Good Wisconsin Crock-Pot Chili.
Thanksgiving should be fun. He’s willing to go beyond his usual Three. He’ll even help me cook the 1-2-3 Cranberry Sauce!

This blog blast is sponsored by Harper Collins, publisher of Deceptively Delicious, and the Parent Bloggers Network.

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>I am not making this up.

>Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Common sense, like common courtesy, isn’t always common. Some folks seem to need basic safety sense written out for them in the form of basic warnings. “Do not use this hairdryer in the bathtub or shower.” “Professional driver; do not attempt.” And there’s the classic line, “I am a professional. Do not try this at home.” The organization Sick of Lawsuits has asked Parent Blogging Network to collect some of the most ridiculous warning labels in existence.

Last spring my daughter spent a long, cold night waiting for a good place in line at the grand opening of the local Love Sac store. She got (are you ready for this?) an 87% discount. She was kind enough to get a few things for the family with her discount, so we picked up the classic square PillowSac and its Rocker. This is the warning tag on The Rocker.

Warning:
Improper use of this product may result in injury or death.
Do not jump on The Rocker projecting oneself through open space that is inherently dangerous and may cause injury or death.
Do not allow your children to play unattended on The Rocker — better yet,
do not allow your children to play unattended at all.
Do not put any part of your body, including your entire body, underneath
The Rocker, especially when The Rocker is rocking. May result in injury or
death.
Do not eat The Rocker or anything included with The Rocker, including, but
not limited to, nuts, b0lts, tags, cardboard, packaging, plastic bags, plastic
pieces, styrofoam, unpopped popcorn kernels, etc. Attempting to eat these
things may result in injury, death, or at the very least, discomfort while
passing these items through your digestive system from entry to exit.
Do not stand on The Rocker as this may result in injury or death.
Keep The Rocker away from heaters, burning cigarettes, or any open flame. May result in injury, death, or destruction.

(Hmmm. It doesn’t say anything about rabbits….)

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>Walk a mile in my shoes

>How far would you go for your child? We’ve had some challenging, even difficult, times with our children, and I’ve had some tough times dealing with the special education staff working with my child…a not-so-comfortable task, since I teach in the same district. Let’s look at this from another angle, though.
I posted yesterday after a frustrating day of teaching. I deal with more in a single day than ER or Grey’s Anatomy would if the shows were set in the psych wing. Really, folks, I can’t (and won’t try to) diagnose anyone, but there are symptoms of all kinds of serious problems just bouncing around my school building, dressed in Hello Kitty and Tony Hawk. Certain parents, IMHO, haven’t gone far enough.
I kept seeing little (thank goodness, not front page news) blurbs about Britney Spears losing custody of her children. Teachers are mandated reporters; if we suspect any neglect or abuse, we are required by law to report it. After that, it’s up to the folks at protective services to assess the case and figure out if the kids are safe or not. If not, they determine what kind of action is necessary.
Britney’s kids are not near school age yet. They’re not in regular day care, either, another field where the teachers are mandated reporters. Fortunately, the children had an advocate in the form of their father, and he had enough money to take this to court himself without waiting for the wheels of public service to turn. Now all involved need to hope that he will do right by his kids.
Unfortunately, Brit doesn’t seem to have a support network that will help her get her act together and learn how to be a mom. She can’t do it alone. Who will step up to be her mentor? How far will her family go to help her, and ultimately help her children?

How far would you go for your kids? I hope I never need to know the real answer.

Sponsored by Parent Bloggers Network
Blog Blast inspired by the new book Dangerous Admissions

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